Lone Survivor
by TolkienScribe
Summary: After the Great Plague, the forest of Greenwood changes to something darker, more sinister. When a ride in the forest goes awry, King Thranduil finds himself a prey of something bigger. Part of the Green Leaves Universe. Do not own. In progress. Please read and review. :) (Emi!)
1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

 **Disclaimer:** Not mine.

Please heed the T warning. If it does not suit you, kindly press the back button.

Flames not appreciated. Constructive criticism is welcome.

Enjoy!

 **~S~**

 **Prologue:**

 _Greenwood the Great,_

 _After the Great Plague ended,_

 _Third Age, Year 1642_

His breathing came in short, ragged gasps. He was hurt, bruised and alone on unfamiliar grounds. It was ironic, considering this was his forest.

He could not hear any birds singing. He did not even any forest animals for a long time. It must have been a few hours since he first began to run. His pursuers were far behind, but Thranduil hoped he had shaken them off.

The quiet of the forest did not mean the forest was not deadly.

One of the trees beside Thranduil suddenly unravelled itself, its branches fanning out dangerously. Thranduil did not have the time to react; it slammed its branches against him, sending the king violently backwards.

Thranduil's back slammed hard against another tree. He slid down against it to the ground. Thankfully the tree behind was him wasn't so responsive as to harm him. That tree was not so sick yet.

Blood trickled from his lips. The king wiped it and stared the dark red liquid on his fingertips. He had bit the inside of his cheek. He could taste the metallic tang of his blood filling his mouth. He leaned back on the tree behind him, waiting for a death blow but none came.

 _~You remember me.~_ He murmured to the tree he had collided into. The tree remained silent, then rustled its leaves a bit. Yes, the tree remembered him. But the sickness had gone too deep. It will not help him, or protect him. Thranduil knew he had to run again soon, but for the moment he was glad for the respite.

He studied the cuts over his body. His armour had a rent in it as if the metal was just cloth. His cloak was ripped and there was a gash from his face that barely missed his eye and went to the jawline. Is company was dead, so was his horse and his hounds and he was too far from the Halls. He could die before he got there, he thought grimly.

He heard a loud howl. Thranduil looked up sharply. The trees rustled in anticipation. He looked around him, feeling the hostility press on him like a large stone on his chest. It was difficult to breathe here. The howls came closer. He stared in the direction it was coming from before turning on his heel and running through the trees. None of them moved against him. That did not mean they knew him and did not want to harm him. It meant they wanted to prolong his suffering. They wanted to see him dance like a clever Dwarven children's toy before the final blow came.

He was the king of a hostile forest.

 **~S~**

 **Author's Note:**

 **-** It is said that the Great Plague was brought on by Sauron, for it deepened the sickness lying on the forest of Mirkwood.

-The Great Plague had started in the Year 1635 of the Third Age.

-It is not clear when the Plague ended, so I gave it almost the same years as it took for the Black Death to end.

-Thranduil by this time is not a new king, but it is still an unexpected situation. Hence it is a curiosity how he managed to handle it.

-Unfamiliar grounds- since this was a new terrain in the sense that the trees were behaving strangely.

-The trees- In Mirkwood, some trees were considered 'friends' of the Elves in the Hobbit while others were not. This led me to think that they probably had an intelligence level and also a sense of morality.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

 _Thranduil's Halls,_

 _Early Third Age,_

 _One Week Earlier…_

Thranduil studied the large map hanging on one of the walls of his study.

"I hope the merchants are not late this year," Thranduil said. He folded his arms.

"The Great Plague has ended, thank Eru," Thorontur said. "They might decide to travel this way again."

"I hope so." Thranduil said. "We are running low on supplies, as the Kitchens and the Seamstresses' Halls keep telling me." The Kitchens heavily depended on the exotic spices from other lands, and the seamstresses on different dyes. "Have we found out how many lives were lost in the Plague?"

"Hundreds of thousands, as the rumours say," Thorontur said. "Gondor was hit hard, and the East is almost empty."

"Hm," Thranduil's mind was far away. Thorontur studied him.

"What?" Thorontur asked finally.

"What's what?" Thranduil asked in return, startled.

"I can practically see your mind wrapping around the Plague's incident. You are troubled. What is bothering you?"

"It just seems so… suspicious." Thranduil said. "After the Second Age ended, we live in peace finally and all of a sudden we have this pandemic in our hands," Thranduil gestured at the map. Neat lines of burgundy ink passed through various lands, some of them darker than the rest where the plague had hit. Light blue ink marked out the trade routes and black scribbling beside the map gave little notes on the right side of the map. "Did they lose any livestock? Horses, sheep, cattle?"

"Nothing of the sort, from what I learn. It spread through person to person."

"And it finished all of a sudden?" Thranduil asked. The way he said it put Thorontur in doubt too.

"Thranduil, what are you suggesting?"

"I am suggesting something like sorcery." Thranduil said.

"Sorcery by whom? Sauron is dead."

"Some enemies are harder to kill than we think."

"No," Thorontur said adamantly. There was a screech as he pushed back his chair and got up. "No, no, no. Thranduil, look at me." He didn't need to. Thorontur grabbed his shoulder and forced him. "The enemy is dead. We have won the battle for Valar's sake."

"And you truly believe that it would be that simple?" Thranduil asked. "That all we needed to do was to separate the One Ring from its master."

"Thranduil, Sauron is no more. I know you have your doubts, and you never trusted him. But to consider he is still alive, or even having the strength for sorcery is ridiculous and insane-"

"No enemy who had the capability to lead hundreds of thousands of fell creatures can be so easily defeated, or destroyed." Thranduil said. "Morgoth is enough proof of that."

"We are not swirling towards Dagor Dagorath, Thranduil!"

There was a knock on the door before it opened. Legolas entered. Thranduil's heart considerably lightened when he looked at his first and only son. In looks, both had startling resemblances to the point that one could easily pass for others. A few differences kept them apart, if one looked close enough. Both were tall, with light golden hair. Their facial features were mostly the same. But Thranduil was slightly taller than his son, more broad-shouldered. His muscles were highly defined than Legolas' were. Legolas had taken more after his Silvan blood in that manner, with a leaner, lither figure.

"Your voices could be heard outside," Legolas told them. He placed his papers over his father's trouble. "What were you arguing about?"

"You could tell we were arguing from outside?" Thorontur said.

"No. But your body language when I entered certainly did." Legolas leaned against Thranduil's desk and folded his arms. He raised a single brow. "Go on. What happened?"

"Tell your father to stop dwelling on the past." Thorontur said, shaking a finger at his king. Thranduil's look darkened.

"Careful, Thorontur, I hold you in high regard but that does not mean I will easily have my word, the word of your king, questioned." Thorontur's immediately look remorseful and hurriedly sought to make it right.

"Sire, I am not waving away your worries. I simply cannot believe that we have the enemy, the one we took years to defeat, would still be alive, and capable of causing us harm."

"I actually share my father's concern," Legolas said. This time, Thorontur stopped short. He looked astounded before the look turned grave. Thranduil immediately was alert.

"Have you found something in the forest as proof?"

"Not really," Legolas said. "But father is right. Something is amiss about the entire business with the Plague. It started out of nowhere-"

"The people of Gondor actually think that the Plague might have arisen from the War of the Last Alliance, that the Marshes may have somehow spread the bad humours through the lands."

"Really?" Legolas asked in disbelief. "After all these years? No, I do not think so. It started out of nowhere. It spread person to person. No livestock, animal or insect carried it in its form. It kills the majority of the Race of Men, and all of a sudden, without any doing on any of the Free People's parts, withers away?" Legolas crossed his arms. "That is something I wanted to discuss with you. The patrols that were stationed around the northern, western and eastern borders have returned. They said they had no troubles, but something is different about the forest. I sense it too at times."

"And what does it feel like?"

"I do not know how to describe it," Legolas said. His brow was furrowed. "It felt like there was something, some form of sickness lying over it. I could feel sense it in them, and yet the forest is unable to purge itself from it. The soldiers say they found it in only a few parts of the forest, and the animals flee from them."

"It could be just a change of a season," Thranduil said, but there was heavy doubt in his words. "Animals tend to change patterns in every few centuries." But Legolas shook his head.

"Added to the Plague, I cannot believe it is just coincidence." He said. "It has to have something else to it. Was it sorcery? Was it something other that?"

"Those questions can only be answered from where the Plague started." Thorontur said.

"You will find no answer there. Gondor is just as baffled as we are." Thranduil said.

"And Lady Galadriel?" Legolas asked. "Surely she would know something."

"Well, if you want to make contact, you are very welcome." Thranduil said dryly.

"Thranduil-"

"I spoke to Artanis," Thranduil said. Thorontur and Legolas raised his brows. Thranduil looked annoyed. "Yes! I can speak to my kin's wife-"

"I am not judging you," Thorontur commented. His face was completely expressionless, completely innocent. Thranduil nearly snorted and Legolas hid a smile. It took Thranduil considerable effort to speak of Galadriel… or to speak to Galadriel.

"She does not know." Thranduil finished. "But she is suspicious. And so is Elrond. And that is the reason why I am on my guard. Legolas, please see if there is anything out of the ordinary in the goings on of our forest. I want to know everything."

"I will read the reports given by our patrols and see if there is anything out of the ordinary."

"Thank you."

Legolas only nodded and excused himself. Thorontur looked reasonably uncomfortable.

"Sire, I-"Thorontur stopped before continuing again. "I did not mean to question your concern."

"I know why you did." Thranduil said. "When the Second Age ended, we hoped to put the past behind us in hopes for some peace at last." Thranduil looked at the map again. "But I don't think it is over yet."

"Alright," Thorontur said finally. The tone in which he said it broke through the gloom that settled over the room. "I agree. You have an uncanny way of finding something wrong in the entire mess. Now can we please get back to work so that we can leave this study? It is nearly evening, and you need to show for this feast."

"Must I?"

"You missed the last three, Thranduil!"

"Did I?" Thranduil asked seriously. He successfully kept his laughter out of his voice.

"I know what you are doing." Thorontur said. "You frightened me enough with that when you were grieving and let me tell you, it is not funny."

"I didn't know you cared."

"I don't." Thorontur snapped. "I just don't want to be the one doing the paperwork if you kill yourself by grieving."

Thranduil smiled.

Back in his rooms, Thranduil found himself facing a piping hot bath already waiting for him. Thorontur left only for a while before returning, bathed and clothed for the night's merrymaking.

"Why don't I have a say in my clothes?" Thranduil asked, studying the garments laid out for him by Galion. Light, airy colours of green and gold; Berethil always unconsciously leaned towards green in his clothes.

"Because you always choose dark colours," Thorontur said. His voice was dim, coming from another room. "Get dressed."

Thranduil looked down at the hem and raised his brows.

"Thorontur! Tell Lady Berethil that she will refrain from embroidering forest scenes across the hems of my robes. I am not a walking tapestry!" Thorontur appeared at the doorway.

"It is considered a fashion, Thranduil." Thorontur said patiently. Thranduil laughed in disbelief.

"If fashion dictated that you, Thorontur, wear laces on your shoes and a tight-fitted shirt to make you look thin, then would you do it?"

"Thranduil," Thorontur said. He looked exasperated. "Stop behaving like a spoiled child and wear your clothes. Otherwise I will force you into them, and I will not be gentle." Thorontur placed his hands on his hips and gave him a bright smile. "Now, be a good king and do as I say."

Their bickering would have gone further had it not been for the sound of someone entering. Light footsteps and the lack of knocking told them both that it was Legolas; only he had the courage to enter Thranduil's rooms unannounced. Thorontur raised his brows at him in a silent gesture of encouragement before leaving the room. Voices floated to Thranduil as he slowly went to change.

"Is he ready?"

"Your father is getting on my nerves."

"He is only pulling your leg."

"After all, Thorontur," Thranduil called as he dressed. "I seem to recall you said something about blessing the times when I would finally irk you like I did in old times!"

There was a very long pause. Thranduil grinned as he straightened his collar.

"Who told you that?" Thorontur sounded appalled and indignant at the same time. Thranduil knew he shouldn't but he could not resist.

"A little bird by the name of Mithon."

"That-that-"

"Do not worry, Thorontur," Legolas' voice soothed the old advisor. "It only shows that you have a soft side."

"Stop annoying him, Legolas. He is my responsibility."

There was some silence in the other room before he heard stifled laughter.

Thranduil ran a comb quickly through his hair. He decided to leave it loose. When he stepped outside, he found Legolas still trembling with silent mirth.

"What?" He asked suspiciously.

"Nothing, nothing," Thorontur said. He waved away at Thranduil. "Come, you look well. The crown is perfect-"

"I am telling you, if you are making jokes about me behind my back-"

"No, the joke was at my expense I assure," Thorontur said.

"Entirely," Legolas managed.

The feast was inside the halls this night. The chandeliers were lit, leaving no part of the halls in shadow. There was lively music, and swirling colours of clothes of the people on the dance floor. It looked like a scene out of a tapestry or a painting.

"You took a good vantage point to look at everything." Thorontur said to Legolas when he found him.

"It isn't enjoyable if you can't see everything."

"Hanon and Fion are missing this," Thorontur said. "Thranduil smiles almost as much as he used to before."

"I think sometimes he is a little too strong for his own good." Legolas said. "And for the last many years, we seem to be discussing our father frequently."

"I will stop discussing him when he is himself again." Thorontur retorted. The old advisor looked around him. "There is news. We might be having a few new arrivals this year."

That made Legolas smile broadly.

"How many of these 'new arrivals'?"

"Somewhere around ten," Thorontur said. "And I hear there are two guards to be wed in the end of this month."

"That is splendid news. You just missed Anastor trying to convince father to dance."

"Really? How do you know he was convincing him?"

"Anastor was gesturing towards the floor. Father refused, obviously."

"Oh, and you just missed an Ellon who had little too much to drink."

"Already? We barely made it to midnight!"

"Oh! There he goes!"

There was a sound of loud clutter and Legolas turned to the noise.

"Is that one of the scribes?"

"Yes, and judging from the other scribes who are laughing too hard, I think he just got tricked into drinking Dorwinion wine," Thorontur said, chuckling. "He will have a terrible day tomorrow."

"Assign him to the Rangers, we will make his life a bit difficult tomorrow." Legolas said with a gleam in his eye. Legolas' lack of tolerance for those who irresponsibly drank and lagged behind their duties was legendary. But Thorontur had a more merciful heart.

"I will do no such thing." Thorontur said firmly. Then he changed the subject. "Your father feels that he should not be made king."

"I know."

"I sometimes do not understand why."

"He lived his youth much like I did; in the forest, serving the king as a soldier would." Legolas said. "While he knew his duty as an heir to the throne, I do not think he ever considered himself capable of being a king."

"Well at least he is not leaving this feast." Thorontur said. "That is an improvement."

"Are you sure?" Legolas murmured. He craned his neck slightly, looking over the merry crowd. "I can't see him."

Thorontur's head snapped up sharply. He searched quickly.

"I leave him for one moment-" Thorontur muttered.

"Looking for me?" Thranduil said. Thorontur and Legolas jumped and turned around. The king stood directly behind them, an amused smile on his face. "Stop pampering me, the both of you." Thranduil said. He looked at his advisor. "Your wife was looking for you. The couples' dance will begin shortly. It wouldn't do to keep your wife waiting." He turned his attention to Legolas. "And you, shoo! I do not want you come anywhere near my advisor for the remainder of this feast. Valar knows leaving you two together will only make my life more difficult."

The night wore on until the feast ended. There were few hours left in dawn still, when Legolas came up to him in his rooms. Thranduil had seated himself by the fire, an open book on his lap.

"The patrol from southern borders has arrived," Legolas said. "The captain wishes to give his report verbally first. The written report will be given later."

"Find Thorontur, or Olben and have them listen to the report."

"No, father, he wants to speak to you directly." The request was unusual. Thranduil sat back in his chair and stared. Legolas looked serious. He added. "And judging from what he told me, I could say it is fairly important."

Thranduil stared at him before nodding slowly.

"Where is he?"

"He is currently taking refreshments. I told him to return when the hour turns."

"Good. Have Mithon inform me when he comes. And tell Thorontur I want him to accompany me when I see to the captain. Who was on duty?"

"Captain Arodon," Legolas said.

"I see. Thank you." Thranduil said. Legolas saw his father look away, his mind already dwelling on something else. It was clear Thranduil's mind was preoccupied. Legolas took his leave quietly. When the time came, he met with Thorontur in the room where Arodon was told to wait.  
The captain was not in his armour, but he wore the casual attire of soldiers, simple black-brown trousers, with knee-length boots. The tunic was lighter shade of brown and the full-sleeved shirt was deep, dark green. The emblem of Greenwood was stitched into the front of the tunic, and the golden trimmings along the hem of the tunic, marked Arodon as a ranked official.

"Sire," the Elf bowed. He was heavily muscled, with a firm look set on his face. Thranduil wondered mildly if this Elf too had taken part in the Battle of the Last Alliance. He certainly looked that way, as if he had seen horrors he would best leave untouched.

"Sit," Thranduil said. "You must be tired. I am surprised you insisted to meet me immediately. What news do you have that brought upon such urgency?"

"The state of the forest, Sire," the Elf said. Thranduil and Thorontur seated themselves across the captain.

"And what can you tell me about the state of the forest?"

Thranduil noticed how Adoron opened his mouth but did not speak immediately, as if looking for the best words to say.

"The forest has become different," the captain said. "In the beginning of our patrol, we only felt it like a whisper. We did not give it too much thought. Things are not always what they seem at night. But the trees were twisted, particularly the ones facing the East. That and I have a confession."

"And that is?"

"My lord," Adoron said. "We did not patrol the entirety of the southern border."

Tense silence fell. Monitoring the borders was important, and any form of disobedience from the army was very, very serious.

"You have a bare few moments to explain to me why you disobeyed direct orders," Thranduil said at length.

"There is something out there in the forest." Adoron said. "I know not what or who. But all of us felt it."

"'Feelings' are nothing, captain. I need solid proof." Thranduil said.

"Then consider a soldier's instinct." Arodon said. "Sire, with all due respect, I had a feeling, or an instinct, to leave that place. I cannot explain it in any other way."

"And yet you took time longer than the other patrols, and longer than you should have in returning." Thorontur spoke for the first time.

"There is that." Arodon said. This time he frowned as if he were troubled. "The trees were hindering us."

Thranduil and Thorontur were not sure they heard him correctly.

"What did you say?" Thranduil asked eventually.

"The trees in the south," Arodon explained. "They were acting strangely. They would not speak to us and at times they helped us and at other times, they blocked our paths, kept us from returning home."

"Maybe they were protecting you from some danger." Thorontur said.

"Then why would they not speak to us, my lord?"

To that, neither Thranduil nor Thorontur had an answer. Thranduil did not bother to find one. Instead he sat there and thought for a while.

"Thank you," Thranduil said finally. "You have given us much to ponder over. As for your insubordination," Arodon bowed his head. "Was there anyone who protested against your command?"

"No, my lord… we were together."

"Then you and your patrol unit will be held accountable together. I will see what to do with you. The decision may have been a good one, but that does not change the fact that you did not follow your orders."

"Yes, Sire."

Thranduil's look softened.

"Go. Get some rest. Enjoy your time with your family and friends. You did your duty, though in part. And for even that part, I am grateful."

Adoron, dismissed, stood up, bowed once more and left. When he left, then Thranduil let his troubled look come over his face.

"You remember from which side the Plague reached our forest?" Thorontur said suddenly.

"From the eastern borders," Thranduil said, and then understanding dawned. "And Arodon said the sickness seemed stronger in them."

"Also, his reports show the trees in the south are more affected than the trees in the other sides of the forest." Thorontur said.

"Then south is where we must place our focus."

"And what lies in the south?" Thorontur asked grimly.

"Dol Guldur," Thranduil murmured his voice just as grim.

 **~S~**

 **Author's Note:**

Thank you for the support! It means a lot to me.

-Galadriel and Celeborn jointly ruled Lothlorien after the deaths of Amdir and Amroth.

-It is not clearly specified that Sauron was the one who caused the Great Plague. However it is heavily hinted.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

"We need to repair the roads." Thorontur said. He gestured at the map of Greenwood, his index finger tracing the roads crossing the forest. "We blocked the roads during the Plague, but that led the roads to fall into disuse."

"Hm," Thranduil said. He was only half-listening. Thorontur looked at him. "Your mind is on that report yesterday, isn't it?"

"That report is certainly more important than how our roads are." Thranduil sighed. He rose to his full height. 'Has Legolas received any more similar reports?"

"I did not speak to him this morning," Thorontur answered. "I did see him hurrying with a group of Ellyn, captains by the looks of them."

"Hm," Thranduil said again. Then he shook his head. "There is no need of worrying until Legolas speaks to us." To Thorontur, it sounded as if he was convincing himself.

"Right," Thorontur said faintly. Thranduil worried rarely. But when he did, it meant it was something worth worrying about.

"There are rumours of the merchants coming our way."

"Good. Make sure they are well-received. The years in the Plague has rendered our forest inhospitable." Thranduil said.

"Rumours change and spread fast." Thorontur said. "You did what you had to do, to make sure our forest did not have any hand in spreading the Plague."

"Not that it matters now," Thranduil said. "If what I believe is true, then the Plague has spread even with all the caution. And only sorcery can force an illness to spread from man to tree."

Thorontur stared at him for a long while in silence. In the beginning, Thranduil did not notice and continued to work. Then Thranduil finally felt his intense gaze and looked up.

"What?"

"You have matured, Thranduil," Thorontur said thoughtfully. "When I first saw you, I hardly expected you to be anything near a leader. But you have met up the mark nicely."

This time when Thranduil smiled, it was a genuine one.

"I am glad you think so." Thranduil said dryly. "Although, you do not hesitate in pointing out how woefully inadequate I am."

"Especially when it comes to paperwork," Thorontur said, immediately returning to his old self. "Go on. Get."

Thranduil laughed and shook his head. He had barely returned to his work, when the door opened and Legolas appeared.

"There is something you need to see." Legolas said.

"When?" Thranduil asked.

"Immediately." Legolas' tone brooked for no arguments but certainly raised their heads and their questions. But the prince's face was grim. Thranduil stalled his question and rose from his chair.

"Alright, lead me then."

Legolas nodded and escorted his father out of the study and led him down to the Halls for ranked officials of the Army. Thorontur, as always followed them close behind. Thranduil found himself in a small room. There was a rank official waiting for them- a captain, judging from his garbs- and three soldiers.

"The captain has something to show you." Legolas said to his father.

Thranduil looked at the captain and then looked at the pallet that suspiciously bore the outlines of a body under a cover. One of the soldiers knelt and pulled away the cover.

"Valar beyond," Thorontur exclaimed. "What new delivery is this?" Thranduil, on the other hand, remained silent. He was curious.

Thranduil bent towards the corpse. The face was completely pale, devoid of life, but the eyes were frozen wide open, mouth caught in a silent scream. Thranduil brushed his fingers against the skin. The body was hard. He pulled back the cover. The fingers were twisted in awkward angles as if the Elf clawed on something.

"You found him like this?" Thranduil asked.

"Yes, Sire."

"And how hard was the body?"

"Enough to tell us he was like this for half the night." The captain answered.

"And he had given no cry for help? Or raised an alarm?"

"The sentries on duty heard nothing."

"Where was he found?"

"South to our camp, Sire." The captain said.

"And you found nothing to indicate the way he died?"

"We found him on the forest floor, with broken branches of trees around him." The captain began. But before he could continue, the soldier who had pulled the cover spoke, "He was frothing from the mouth."

The captain turned his head sharply.

"You did not tell me this."

"It had not occurred to me." The soldier answered. Then he turned his head to Thranduil. "I was the one who found him, Sire. He was my comrade for three decades. There was leftover froth around the corners of his mouth."

"Froth?" Thranduil repeated. "Check the body again." Thranduil rose and the soldier returned the cover. "Fully this time, for I think you may have missed something."

The captain gave him a quizzical look.

"As you wish, my lord."

Thranduil nodded and with a silent tilt of his chin towards Legolas and Thorontur, he gestured at them that he wished to speak privately. The two Elves nodded slightly in return and followed Thranduil, who led them to a private meeting chamber.

"What were you thinking?" Thorontur asked.

"The same thing Legolas was thinking," Thranduil said.

"The broken branches meant some form of animal," Legolas said. "Something large and heavy enough to break branches-"

"And capable enough to climb trees," Thranduil said. "The rest you, Thorontur, guessed."

"Poison, or some form of toxin," Thorontur said. "It should be something that causes the person to convulse, and froth in the mouth, and freeze the muscles after death."

"But poison enters the body in some form," Thranduil said. "I assume a puncture wound or something similar."

They understood why Thranduil did not mention this in front of the captain and the soldier. Such a vague speculation, mixed with fear and lies, could cause unrest.

"However I do not want to lose my people to a foe I do not know. Legolas, send hawks to all patrols that are in the forest to keep caution."

Legolas nodded and excused himself.

"And what do you intend to do?"

"I intend to see if the trees have something for me."

Delighted shrieks of children filled the mountain air.

Thranduil sat on the waist-high stone wall. This was the only patch of his Halls inside the mountains that was exposed to sunlight. The builders had found the place while tunnelling. They fashioned it into a large flat circle where the floor was tiled in colourful patterns. They erected heavy stone walls that could not be moved by few Elves or by weather. But the sunlight was there and so was the wind. Soon after it was built, it became a familiar haunt for the children and their mothers because of its safety.

Thranduil smiled as he watched the children play with spinning discs and then shook his head to clear his thoughts.

 _~The world is better seen from the forest floor than from the sky, ~_ one of the trees murmured to him. Thranduil chuckled.

 _~Sometimes an eagle's view helps more than we think. ~_ Thranduil reasoned.

 _~In a forest this dense, you need to be a lighter bird with lighter feathers, ~_ another tree tried to reason with him.

 _~Argue with me later, ~_ Thranduil commented. _~But I need your help? ~_

 _~If we help, will you stop throwing insults our way? ~_ One of the older trees asked in what sounded like mirth.

 _~I wouldn't promise anything, ~_ Thranduil said dryly. _~There are times when you lot still get on my nerves. ~_

There was a rumble as if the trees were laughing.

 _~Ask, King of the forest. ~_

 _~What dwells in amongst your branches that you do not know of? ~_

What he met with was confusion.

 _~Everything that dwells in our branches is what we know of. ~_

 _~But is there anything that can be deemed evil? ~_

 _~The trees in the South have dimmed voices, ~_ One of the younger trees said. _~They speak less and sometimes not at all. ~_

 _~I am afraid that hardly helps. ~_ Thranduil said.

 _~Then we have nothing to tell you, ~_ there was apology in the tree's voice.

 _~No matter, ~_ Thranduil said with a sigh. He pulled away from them and suddenly became aware of Thorontur watching him warily in front of him. He held up a goblet. Thranduil took it and drank the cool cider.

"How did it go?" Thorontur asked once Thranduil returned the goblet to him.

"I did not get much, except for that I already know," Thranduil said. He rubbed his forehead. Mind-speech with trees was not his most loved activity; it often left him with a headache. "The trees are confused, mostly. They see change slower than we do. It will be a while before they notice it." Thranduil leaned forward, hands wrapped around the steaming cup. Greenwood had cool summers and chilly winters, where the chill was harsh and cutting in winters. Anything warm to drink was always welcome. "I am considering sending a party out to investigate. We need to see these ourselves."

"I see."

"I intend to go with them."

"I gathered that."

"You are not going to stop me?"

"I doubt I can hang on to your horse in an attempt to make you stay."

Thranduil's lips quirked upwards.

"Where are you going?" Thranduil asked when Thorontur turned to leave.

"I have some papers to complete. Do you wish to come along?"

"I think I will stay for a while." Thranduil said. Thorontur smiled and nodded. When the advisor left, Thranduil returned his attention to the children. Happy shrieks and laughter filled the air. One of the spinning discs spun towards him and directly hit him on the chest.

"Alright," Thranduil said, getting up and dusting his clothes. "Anyone who hits the king pays a dire penalty. Anyone I catch is in grievous danger." The younglings stared at him open-mouthed. Thranduil lunged at them with a loud war-cry and scattered them with excited squeals.

Near evening, Legolas sought him and Thorontur.

"You were right." Legolas said. "The soldier- he had punctures wounds along his shoulders."

"He was poisoned by an animal."

"It must be a creature that we either did not discover or just arrived in our forest," Thorontur said thoughtfully.

"His sides were bruised," Legolas said.

"He took a fall," Thranduil said. Legolas nodded.

"There were scratch marks over his forearms."

"His fingers were twisted in claws," Thorontur put in. "He scratched himself?"

"Probably because of the poison," Thranduil said. He was troubled. "He may have suffered with hallucinations. This animal is dangerous."

"We have to brief everyone about this creature."

"Or creatures," Thranduil said, troubled. "How do we know there is just one?"

"What do we do?" Thorontur asked.

"Legolas, brief this with Hanon and the rest of the Ranger Commanders and have all of them brief the Rangers under them. Thorontur do the same with the Warriors and move on to the soldiers and sentries."

"And Olben?"

"I will speak to him myself."

"He waits for you right now."

"Good. Go."

Thranduil spoke to Olben on the matter himself.

"I hope you do not intend to tell me something like we are at war again, Sire" Olben said, looking troubled. Thranduil looked up at him briefly. Olben was a trusted friend and a Warrior, one of the five who looked over the entire force of Warriors.

"I should certainly hope not." Thranduil said. "But these reports beg investigation."

"I understand that," Olben said. "But for a king to investigate this personally-"

"I am not sitting here like a glass figurine, Olben." Thranduil said. "I am king and this is my kingdom. I will see what is wrong with it personally."

"I am not passing judgement, Sire, but perhaps Legolas could go in your stead."

"And what difference is there between the life of a king or a prince?" Thranduil asked, raising a single brow. "I do hope you can come up with a plausible argument, Olben."

"Stubbornness is a fatal flaw, if you forgive my saying so," Olben commented lightly.

"You are forgiven," Thranduil said. He kept his voice just as light. "But try not to repeat those words. I am bored, Olben. I might just throw someone in the cells."

Olben's eyes gleamed in silent amusement. The prison cells were a constant joke amongst themselves. When they were first built, Thranduil had furnished them enough to make them adequate and comfortable guest rooms. It turned into a running jest that the only way to spend a night in them was through insubordination. Nevertheless, Thranduil's words were nothing but harmless threats.

"Sire, I would still advise you not to accompany us. Allow us to investigate and bring the reports to you."

"I consider myself advised. And now I will take judgment that I feel befitting," Thranduil said smoothly. He added, "Olben, I want the soldiers to know to be on their guard. We do not know what we are dealing with. I wish for no more accidents."

Olben nodded.

"I will make sure of it, Sire."

"Good."

Near night time, Thranduil stepped out of the Halls. With the War over, the forest, at least the area around his Halls was safe. He heard the laughter of Ellyn as they played with spears and arrows in one corner while the Ellyth chatted and laughed near the fires. He wandered away, feeling a bit of relief at the success of manoeuvring out of Legolas and Thorontur's pathway. His faithful guard Mithon wouldn't give him away… at least not immediately.

Thranduil leaned forward towards a tree he was passing by and pressed his hand on its bark.

 _~Awake? ~_ He asked.

 _~King Thranduil…~_ the tree rumbled in reply. Thranduil pulled his hand away. Some form of relief washed over him. Yes, this was his home. This was where he belonged. He was determined to stay and fight whatever evil crept in his forest. Suddenly amidst the calm and contentment, he felt something probe his mind and he felt his mood dampen somewhat.

 _~I do not appreciate unwanted company, ~_ Thranduil remarked coldly.

 _~I merely wanted to see how things fared with you. ~_ Galadriel said. Her voice was neutral, almost conversational. Thranduil snorted.

 _~Have I done something to raise your ire, son of Oropher? ~_

 _~Now why would you think that? You and your husband tried to take my subjects, for... what? Ah, yes, now I remember. You tried to convince them I was incapable to rule. ~_ Thranduil's voice darkened. _~How could I forget? ~_

 _~You are blinded by your disdain, Thranduil. ~_

 _~Is that what you keep telling yourself, to justify what you did? ~_ Thranduil asked. _~Does that help you sleep better at night? ~_

 _~I care for the people as much as you, Oropherion. ~_

 _Thranduil imagined them face-to-face in this dance of words. He could easily think of them in a cold stone chamber, with only a table between them that held the map of the Elven Realms in the Third Age. He could even imagine them circling it carefully, both of them throwing words back and forth in a curious game of power._

 _~You know, you never really trusted me or my father. ~_

 _~The same way neither of you trusted me. ~_ _Galadriel sounded amused._ _~I hardly think you are in a position to raise such a notion. ~_

 _~Precisely, ~_ _Thranduil said._ _~And yet my people trust me to rule them. ~_

 _~The Silvan Elves were always considered more deadly than wise when compared to the rest of their brethren, Oropherion. ~_

 _Thranduil smiled._

 _~Oh, I do not know. I rather like them. Their temperament meets mine in so many ways. ~_

 _~I am not entirely sure if I am comfortable with that fact. ~_

 _~I am not expecting you to be. ~_

 _~I never really gathered the true reason of your dislike for me now that the First and Second Age are long gone and we are well into the Third.~_

 _~You seek for the wonders of Arda Marred, and yet you wish for the splendour of the life beyond the Sea. Do not think I did not know you asked for the mallorn trees! And do not think I did not know you asked Celebrimbor for a land with the likeness of Aman. Tell me, why did you come here, when you wanted something of your home where you had grown? ~_

 _~I hardly think I am in the need to answer you. ~_

Thranduil fell silent. Then he said at length.

 _~You have not changed, Artanis. You are still blinded by your pride. And I feel a time will come when you will taste its bitter fruit. Alas for the Noldorin! You people burn with the same fire until it consumes you. ~_

 _~You feel that my pride is what will destroy me in the end, ~_ gone was the pleasantness in Galadriel's tone. Thranduil nearly shook his head, at the foolishness on both their ends. They were still young in some aspects and some hurts were still fresh.

 _~I feel it is your fatal flaw, ~_ Thranduil said.

 _~As is your stubbornness for you, Thranduil. ~_ Galadriel interrupted. _~I came in truth to warn you, not to play games. Something stirs deep in your forest. ~_

 _~Do not think I do not know of it. ~_ Thranduil said. _~In fact I know more than you do. ~_

 _~Then take care that this time, you make no mistake as your father had done. ~_ In spite of the bluntness in Galadriel's words, there was no taunt in them, but Thranduil felt the weight of the crown and the heavy responsibility fall upon him like large stones.

 _~Get you gone from here. ~_ Thranduil said. He suddenly felt tired. _~I have things to do. And they are more important than arguing with an Elleth who believes others are incapable of leadership. ~_

Much to his surprise, Galadriel did not answer. Before she left, Thranduil added another thing.

 _~Take care of that pride, Artanis. ~_ Thranduil said. _~Those with pride often lose more than they gain. ~_

Galadriel remained silent, before abruptly leaving him. Thranduil sighed and leaned his head back. He tried not to think of Galadriel's words, of his stubbornness being a fatal flaw and how heraldic it sounded after Olben said the same thing.

 **~S~**

 **Author's Note:**

Yay for brothers! My bro managed to bring my laptop virus-free and even managed to recover my stories. :D

Unfortunately, life decided this is a wonderful time for midterm. -.-

 **Concepts:**

-Galadriel- Before Galadriel fans come snapping at my throat and others question my take of her, let me first explain. I personally feel that due to lack of description of her in Tolkien's world, she is a more complicated character than we think. I feel as if in her youth as well as in her adulthood, her pride was one of her greatest flaws. I always imagined her as an out-spoken, headstrong kind of woman, independent and proud. I considered this because she defied the Valar because she wanted to see Arda. Also she defied Feanor and refused him her lock of hair. Pride, is a trait hard to remove from your personality. After the First Age, she was offered to return to Aman by the Valar, but she, still proud, refused. I think the Galadriel in LOTR was someone who was bone-weary, full of regrets and sorrowful for her mistakes and hubris.

\- The mention of taking the Silvan Elves from Mirkwood to Lorien is mentioned slightly in my story 'Ithilien Rangers' and will be explored in the future (if my brain does not explode with all the plotlines by then!)

-Galadriel and Thranduil- I would not call it a full-out enmity, but I would certainly call it some form of coldness between them. In a way, I think they have played this game for so long that they feel uncomfortable doing anything else. In my stories of Fourth Age you will find something like a mutual agreement and even some friendliness between the two.

 **Replies to Guests:**

earhtdragon: The struggle was real. -.- Thank God for my brother though. This laptop is my life. And did you know I typed half of this chapter on a tablet. I do not mean to sound ungrateful but it was a pain! So glad to have my laptop back. :D :D

 **Do leave a review. :)**


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

" _A king is he who is the first to enter the battlefield, and the last to leave it."-High King Gil-Galad._

Thranduil rested rarely during his work, but last night he found himself unable to sleep after Galadriel's conversation. So a short nap was very much welcome on the couch of his study. He didn't stay asleep for very long though.

Thranduil abruptly came awake when the door of his study slammed open. Thorontur strode in, his pace so fast that his robes trailed behind him. Something was very wrong.

"What is it?" He asked, immediately sitting up on the couch he had been sleeping on.

"There is trouble in the forest." Thorontur said grimly.

Thranduil tilted his head, his mind instantly searching. Then he felt it. Yesterday when he spoke to the trees, it was a light-hearted banter, full of life and merriment, but now the trees were dark, furious, and full of vengeance.

"What happened?" Thranduil asked his advisor, dreading the answer.

"A group of mothers and children went on horses to pick herbs the river." Thorontur said. His voice was mixture of grief and compassion. Thranduil's chest tightened. "None survived."

"How did you come to know this?"

"The trees," Thorontur said. "The Rangers sensed it."

Thranduil briefly closed his eyes and his jaw worked.

"How-who-"

"Orcs," Thorontur said. Thranduil's eyes swiftly opened.

"Orcs," Thranduil repeated. Fury was curling up in him. "Orcs in my forest and my patrols were lax enough not to notice-"

"Thranduil, please. We have to find the bodies first. Deal with the orcs later." Thorontur said. "Your armour is ready. We are taking no chances."

Thranduil became silent and nodded only once.

"Bring Captain Arodon and his company as well." Thranduil said. "I want them to patrol the entire surrounding area."

His guard, Mithon, was mercifully silent as he helped him into his armour. When he was done, Thranduil pressed his hand on his shoulders and walked to the door where Thorontur waited for him. He could see the people turning their heads to look at him as he and others swept past them. Whispers circulated around them but none approached them.

"You have tried to keep it quiet." Thranduil murmured to Thorontur.

"Tried," Thorontur stressed on the word. "But rumours are spreading. And our expressions and manner does not help."

"Is there anyone in our company who is related to the victims?" Thranduil asked. "I do not want a spectacle and I do not want my orders disobeyed."

"None; I made sure of it."

The horses were already waiting for them in the courtyard. Legolas was there, speaking to Captain Arodon. They swiftly mounted their horses. Everyone was fully armed to the teeth. They were taking no chances. Thranduil knew that like him, the company would ask for blood once they found their dead.

"Tell the Rangers to send word to all patrols. Tighten the security of this forest. I need to know everything, every detail that passes under the treat."

"The women and the children were headed towards the Great River, the familiar haunt near the many stones."

"I know it," Thranduil said grimly. He led his white stallion towards the gates. "WE RIDE!"

It took them two hours to reach the area. The sound of the river was loud in their ears. Thranduil slowed his horse. The metallic scent of blood was sharp in his nostrils. His stallion drew back his ears and blew hard from his nose. Everyone behind him was silent. The forest line was so quiet it was almost eerie. In front of him, bodies were littered, blood mixing in the soil.

"Check for survivors." Thranduil said. His voice came out strong but the hopelessness in the air made it obvious they will find none. He began moving from one to another. He stopped at one child, barely twenty years. He stroked the black hair back and looked down at the familiar face.

His heart constricted. He knew this child. He had played with her just yesterday. Some of the mothers were familiar as well, one in particular who was a young Elleth he had seen wedded to one of the groom twenty years earlier. With such great a loss in Silvan Elves in the Last Battle, the people in Thranduil's Halls lessened considerably.

"Whether by the sword or by grief, we will die," Thranduil murmured, closing the eyes of another child.

"This was brutal killing," Legolas said beside him. "It is full of rage, and there is no morality."

"The cuts are many, and they are deep." Thorontur said. He was further than them, investigating the children closer to the bank. "All of them are done by blade."

"How many?"

"Fifteen children and seven Ellyth," Thorontur said.

"This is orc work," one of the soldiers called out.

"The faces are marred, mutilated," Thorontur said. "He is right. Only an orc would have this much hate for our race. Even the race of Men would not harbour this much immorality."

"I wouldn't count on that," Thranduil said, coming to stand beside Thorontur to look down upon the face of an Ellyth. He knew her too. She was a seamstress under Lady Berethil, Hanon's wife, who often volunteered to gather herbs for the healing wards. "Men do have hate but this particular work is done by orcs. No Man would be a fool enough to rouse my wrath." Thranduil looked around him. "Gather the dead. We will take them to the Halls. Bury them among the soldiers." It was an honour; to bury them among the soldiers who were had given their lives to protect the kingdom.

As an extra precaution, he drew up his barriers higher and harder than before. The last thing he wanted at the moment was yet another unwelcome conversation with Galadriel. Thranduil rubbed the back of his neck and pressed his hand on the bark of the tree.

 _~What happened here?~_

The tree rumbled.

 _~The saplings were playing. And the rest were digging out the weeds.~_ Thranduil did not bother to correct the tree's use of word for 'herbs'. _~Some of them were playing in the water. But the orcs were coming. We tried to warn them but there were too many.~_

 _~Why didn't you stop them?~_ Thranduil asked. The trees that the Elves had befriended had the same hate for orcs and other fell creatures as Elves did. These trees did not move like the trees under the rule of Ents, but they were still strong enough to act on some part.

 _~They had saplings with them, as well as some mother trees.~_

Thranduil's mind came to full attention.

 _~What do you mean?~_

"King Thranduil," Arodon called out. Thranduil pulled away from the tree. Arodon was kneeling on the ground, Legolas beside him. Thranduil went to them.

"Look," Legolas said. His finger traced the straight markings on the ground surrounded by trampled soil of confused footprints.

Track marks.

"They were dragged," Thranduil said.

"We have survivors." Thranduil said. "How much is body count?"

"Twelve children and five Ellyth."

"Two Ellyth and three children. The orcs are turning south. Ready a company to travel with me. Bring my hounds."

"I am coming with you."

"You are staying." Thranduil said firmly.

"Thranduil-"

"This is not negotiable. I want you to handle everything while I am away."

"Legolas can-"

"Legolas is travelling north to join Dorián and making sure at least part of the forest is cleared from these fiends." Thranduil interrupted. Thorontur was looking more and more exasperated. Thranduil glanced at Arodon. "On second thought, I am taking Captain Arodon and his company with me."

"You are taking a disgraced unit to pursue captives?"

"Yes," Thranduil said. "Consider it to be a way for them to earn their reputation once again."

"I don't like this." Thorontur said. "Thranduil, please-"

Thranduil silenced him with a single warning look. Thorontur gave a loud exhale. Thranduil stepped back and went to Arodon.

"Well, you said you wanted the entirety of him back."

"Yes, but I wasn't asking for his recklessness to return!" Thorontur shot back.

"You didn't really try too hard to argue with him."

"How could I?" Thorontur asked bitterly. "He is the king. I am bound to serve and obey."

"The Ellyth carried knives to cut the herbs." Legolas said. "And it was no use. They were caught off guard. There was no time."

"We sent no guard." Thorontur said. "After the War, we assumed there was no need."

"Wait till father comes to that realization." Legolas said.

"He would lose sleep over it." Thorontur said, turning around to the river. "Legolas," he said, touching the prince's shoulder briefly. Legolas turned to look.

"Well, that, if anything, proves the Great Plague had some effect on the forest after all." Legolas said.

"Coincidences do not simply happen," Thorontur mused before raising his head and calling out to the king.

"Thranduil… the water," Thorontur said. Thranduil came to them and looked.

The river flowed just like it ever had, but the river no longer smelled of fresh, sweet water, and while the water sparkled in the bright sunlight, now looked dimmer and duller than before. Thranduil, Legolas and Thorontur had seen enough sorcery to immediately tell the difference.

"It is enchanted." Legolas said. "Take care not to touch the water!'

"But what effect has sorcery has on it?" Thorontur wondered. "At any rate, we wouldn't know anytime soon."

"True but find a way to discern its effects." Thranduil said. "I want to know everything you can find out." Thranduil looked south. "The tracks are leading south. I fear we have underestimated the darkness in the south. This peace was not good for us if we did. We are taking all the supplies we packed. Do not expect me back for a few days."

Thorontur nodded wordlessly.

Just then a lament rose up amongst the soldiers. It was in old Silvan dialect that had fallen into disuse except in the most pure-blooded Silvan families and understood by others. Thranduil felt the pain jab right into his chest and his jaw tightened. The lament was full of grief and sorrow, and the words were piercing. Thranduil was not as fluent in Silvan as Legolas was, owing to his Silvan mother, but he understood enough to know it was sung from a soldier's view. It begged the children to return, for the silence to finish and the darkness to end.

"Arodon," Thranduil's voice was uncannily loud in the silence surrounding the soldier's lament. "We ride immediately. The orcs have some four hours of a head start." The captain nodded swiftly and rounded up his company. They worked fast, obviously eager to regain the king's favour as well as find the captured Elves.

"Don't give me that look," Thranduil said to Thorontur without bothering looking at him.

"What look?" The lament has stopped.

"I know you are fretting, Thorontur. I have seen you do it for father. You shouldn't."

"I still think it's a bad idea for you to go." Thorontur said.

"We could have sent guards with them, Thorontur. Did you know that?"

"Yes," Thorontur said quietly.

"And I am not going to forget that."

"I know."

"Well, in any case, take comfort in the fact that I am doing something I am comfortable of doing. If there is one thing I know how to do, it is the art of warfare and survival."

Thorontur's lips twisted as if he tasted something bitter but made no reply.

"Safe travels, Sire, and may you return to us unharmed." Thorontur said. Suddenly there was a dry, humourless smile on Thranduil's face.

"Loose the formalities, Thorontur. You sound much older than you really are."

"Someone has to be!" Thorontur snapped irritably. But Thranduil only smiled and shook his head. He clapped Thorontur on the back before mounting his horse. The hounds, all five of them, lifted their heads in anticipation. "Find them, Thranduil. Bring them home."

"I intend to." Thranduil said. Thorontur stepped back. "WE RIDE!"

The trees were far enough from one another to all a brisk canter through the forest. Some of the well-trodden paths served their purpose before they slipped of them. They stopped to eat and rest their horses before mounting their horses.

"I would say almost thirty orcs," Thranduil said. They made sure to follow the tracks closely. "Large enough to subdue the mothers and children but small enough not to cause a disruption the trees would notice."

"And they are moving fast, without stopping." Arodon said. "Tracks are mostly straight, which means that they already have a base."

"A base in my forest," Thranduil said. Arodon's face changed into remorse.

"We should have completed our patrol, my lord. It is our fault."

Thranduil did not try to soften the blow.

"Let us hope the price isn't paid in more innocent lives."

They made it to the southern side of the forest on a brisk pace. The company slowed to a halt.

"This isn't right." The captain murmured. His gelding pranced nervously and he shortened his reins.

Thranduil was starting to understand precisely why Arodon used the word 'soldier's instinct' to explain the uneasiness inside him. Thranduil felt the uneasiness inside him as well. The trees seemed corrupted by nature, as if something inside them was sick. Thranduil tried to speak to them but they withdrew from him. That was odd. The trees he had spoken to yesterday were right. The hounds around Thranduil's horse gave low whimpers but kept their ground.

"It's too quiet." Thranduil said. "And the air is too dense."

It was near evening, Thranduil knew, but even then the twilight would shine through the shade of the trees. But here the branches were closely knit, leaving them in the dark. Thranduil doubt they would even see the stars once night fell.

"We keep moving," Thranduil said.

They passed through the trees cautiously at first before picking up the pace.

Behind them one of the darker trees fanned out its branches.

Back at the scene where the tragedy struck, most of the bodies were placed on pallets and covered with cloaks.

"You are leaving." Thorontur said.

"Yes," Legolas said. Thorontur turned to look. The younger Elf was dressed in Ranger garbs, fits resting on his hips. "Any changes in the river."

"Yes. The smell is enough to prove it." Thorontur said. The air now smelled dank, musty around the river. "Take care of yourself."

"I will." Legolas said, waving a hand behind him. Thorontur watched him leave before turning his attention to the river.

Thorontur stared into the watery depths with growing trepidation. The water was darkening, the ripples turning from crystal clear into smooth shiny black. The roar of water over the stones dimmed to trickling, though the current was still fast.

"I want someone to fill a skin with this water." Thorontur called over his shoulder. "But be careful not to touch it. I do not want any accidents."

 **~S~**

 **Author's Note:**

-There is no history about the Enchanted River. But my concept of the River is that it is brought about my irreversible sorcery. The Great Plague is one of Sauron's greatest sorceries.

-Rangers and Warriors- These are OCs of mine. These are the two elite forces of the Mirkwood Army, the Rangers working as spies, scouts and armed with bows, arrows and knives, and poisons. They are loose when it comes to protocol. Legolas belongs to this force. The Warriors are the first line of defence, armed with swords, spears and hounds. Thranduil and Oropher belong to the Warriors.

-Dorian is an OC of mine. He is Legolas' childhood friend as well as Thranduil's elite spy.

 **Guest replies:**

Just A Reviewer: Awww thank you! Believe I am enjoying my free time as well. You know I was really interested in spiders because the spiders of the forest are said to be related to Shelob. I considered their venom to work similar to Shelob but still some difference. Don't worry, you will see Galadriel. -cough, cough-


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

It was said that the all the Elves residing in Greenwood the Great lived in Thranduil's Halls but it was not so. Many preferred sleeping in the trees, arguing that mountains were not meant for Elves, particularly the Silvan.

There were settlements high up in the northern parts of the forest, where the medicinal herbs grew in large numbers and there were trees to collect sap and bark from. Along the borders, families of permanently residing soldiers stayed in small clusters of trees. Legolas knew his father was uncomfortable with such a settlement, but they had their king's stubbornness and pride. Thranduil would have to have a good reason to move them when their decisions were solid and immovable as a rock. Also, his father did not meddle with Silvan traditions; many of the Elves living in such stances have been living that way for generations.

Legolas dismounted his horse and nodded at the guard who came to receive him. "Is Ranger Dorián present?"

"Aye," the guard said. "He heard of your coming. He is waiting for you."

He found Dorián staring at a map in a meeting room high in a nearby talan. The Ranger was obviously deep in thought.

"Staring at the map will not make time go faster, my friend," Legolas said with a small smile as he leant against the doorway. Dorián looked up, smiling before his eyes settled on Legolas.

"I was not trying to make time go faster," Dorián answered before looking his childhood friend head to toe with a sobering expression. "Why are you here? You had no orders to join me on my duties here."

"I am not here for mismanaged distribution of duties," Legolas said. "Something happened." He proceeded to tell Dorián everything. The Ranger's eyes widened.

"By the Valar," he said in shock. "So many dead… Thorontur will have his hands full. The king… is it truly wise to let him investigate the matter himself?"

"Let him?" Legolas asked with a dry chuckle. "Father never lets anyone 'let him' do anything. He listens to counsel, if it makes sense he does accordingly, but if it does not, then he will follow his own counsel," Legolas' smile faded. "This is my father's home. He loves it as much as any Silvan Elf born here, Dorián. You can see it in the way he works and spends time over the kingdom. To see it endangered… my father does not take it kindly."

"Like a lion protecting its cubs," Dorián said.

"That description is aptly put."

"So what is your true mission here, my friend?"

"I need to know if there are sightings of orcs here in the northern parts of the forest. I need full investigation… leave no stone unturned as the Men say."

"Fion is taking the northern borders and I am in charge here," Dorián said, inviting Legolas to the map. "We have heard of no trouble so far. Orcs are not the size to go unnoticed." Legolas snorted.

"There must be something." Legolas said. He gestured at the map. "If there are no sightings then let us look for clues. There must be something to give this position. I want all reports, military and otherwise."

"I will speak to the elders and see what I can find."

"I also want guards to take with me and comb through the forest. The more the better, and it will be quicker."

"Of course," Dorián said. "About the king, are you certain you could not have gone with him?"

Legolas burst out laughing.

"I tried to offer but my father looked downright insulted. What else could I have done other than physically forcing myself on his horse and riding behind him?"

"Well, Fion was right after all."

The mention of their mutual mentor sparked Legolas' interest.

"Fion was right? Right about what?"

"He said that he could not decide whether it was stubbornness or pig-headedness of the King, although either way, he came by it honestly through his father. He said the same for you but said that the Lady Arodien, your mother, was more flexible."

"I will have a word with him." Legolas promised.

"Try it. I doubt Fion would apologize."

"Father won't let him away with that statement." It was common knowledge that Thranduil and Fion were very close friends, almost inseparable when Thranduil was a Prince. But time and rank caught him into a net. In spite of it, they remained as close as ever.

"I still doubt Fion would apologize. You will have your guards within the hour. Why not take some refreshments until then?"

After the hour finished, Legolas found twenty guards waiting for him at the base of the tree.

"Are they not more?"

"We can only manage this much. The rest are weary from the patrols, and tired eyes are not meant for investigation." Dorián said. Looking at him, Legolas noticed that he was ready as the rest of the guards.

"Surely you are not coming with me!"

"This is under my watch, Legolas. If there are any orcs about, I intend to find them with you."

"Then it is better if we split apart to cover more ground."

The plan they made in the end was to take ten guards each and span through the forest to cover as much ground as they could. They were still visible to each other as they began to comb through the forest. The first hour left them with no clues and they reached a nearby settlement. The elders, however, told another story.

"Missing game," Dorián said, checking the broken frames where they caged fowls after a hunt. "That cannot be a coincidence."

"And you did not make anything of this?" Legolas asked.

"You know how the younger wolves in a wolf pack are; foolish and reckless. We assumed it was merely a wolf pack did this." No wolf would dare attack an Elf. "But if there are orcs, where are they and why haven't we caught sight of them?"

"We need supplies." Legolas said. "We will camp into the forest and not within any settlements. Break the groups of ten into groups of fives. They will be lesser easily noticed. I want every member of the company hooded and cloaked with food that does not need any fire and warm garments to survive the nights. The only way we will find these orcs is through stealth so that they are unaware of our presence." Dorián nodded. He rose and dusted his hands, his face sober.

"Legolas, if this is the work of Orcs, then you know what this means. This is organized, well-planned. And they only behave like this for one reason." Legolas understood and nodded grimly.

"They have a master."

oOo

"Seven months with child," Thorontur said, placing a shroud over an expecting mother. "My wife knew her. This child was supposed to be her second."

"Too many losses, my lord," one of the soldiers said in sorrow. The lament had died down, leaving a horrible silence in its wake. Stretchers were prepared to carry the dead. It would take them two trips. The first group was already sent.

"Too many," Thorontur agreed. He turned and looked at the darkening river. Already it was given a different name; the Enchanted River. He heard the soldiers murmur it amongst themselves. The water was now fully black, its ripples mesmerizing to look at. He gestured at the soldier to take care of the newly shrouded body and went towards the river bank. The blood had dried, only parts of it now slightly wet. Thorontur grabbed the metal cup resting on a nearby stone and dipped it into the water and let it empty once again. Nothing again. The water itself was fully black. There seemed to be nothing in the water, no dirt and grains to give it such a dark colour. Thorontur shook his head.

"My lord!"

Thorontur set the cup aside and looked up to see one of the soldiers waving his hand towards him. He went over to him.

"What is it?"

"Look."

The soldier pointed at an animal by the bank. It was a fox, its snout still dipped into the water. The animal was remarkably still. Thorontur sighed. There was no doubt now that the river was now lethal to drink, perhaps even to touch.

"Foolish old thing," Thorontur muttered, pulling the animal away from the water. Then he froze. His hand rested right in between the two front limbs, where he was perfectly aware of the steady, deeply heaving chest. The animal was alive. Thorontur stared at the river with renewed wonder.

"The fox is alive." Thorontur said. The soldier frowned.

"I do not understand. What evil then does the river hold?"

No amount of shaking of the animal woke it up. It was fast asleep, oblivious to its surroundings and entirely vulnerable to its enemies. Thorontur wondered if this worked, then how much damage would it inflict on the Elves. Then he denied the thought. They were not as foolish. Still, was this an accidental result of the Plague, or was this an intended attack?

"Take this fox to the handlers among the Rangers," Thorontur said. The Rangers had handlers who cared for all animals from hawks, horses, hounds to strays they found helpless in the forest. "See if they can find a way to awaken it from its sleep, and tell them to send their reports directly to me."

"Yes, my lord."

Thorontur rose and dusted his hands before turning towards the treeline.

"I don't think that the animals are the only ones sick," Thorontur said. The soldiers who heard him stilled. Thorontur walked up to the trees directly near the bank and touched the bark of one of them before following the roots that led right up to the river. The trees forming a line along the banks depended heavily on the water from the river.

"Wonderful," Thorontur muttered. Then he raised his voice. "Let's move! I want us out of here within the next half hour." Inwardly, he prayed for the king's safe return to the Halls.

oOo

The trees grew steadily darker and denser as they went deeper into the south. Thranduil looked above him and noticed the trees were set so close together that the leaves prevented any sunlight from reaching the forest bed.

"Look, Sire." Arodon said. Thranduil looked where Arodon was pointing. The plants growing at the forest floor were shrivelled from the lack of sun and air. Patches of ground was empty and some of the plants were already dead. "This was not like this when we were on patrol."

"I am sure, captain." Thranduil dismounted. With a quick word, he told his hounds to stay. "Captain, come here."

Arodon dismounted and followed the king. They could discern the dark red streaks of blood on the soil. Thranduil knelt and touched it.

"Damp," Thranduil said. "We are close."

"But the trail ends here."

The marks made from dragging disappeared some feet behind them. Only the blood streaks remained. There were no footprints, the soil being too springy. They knew the captives were carried, but here the marks disappeared completely. Thranduil looked up at the trees with growing suspicion.

"What dwells here that I do not know of?" Thranduil murmured to himself, but Arodon did not catch his words and only looked at his king in confusion.

"They were carried from there," Thranduil said, pointing from where they came. "But the blood trail ends here. Either they became careful and bound the captives more securely, or the bodies disappeared," Thranduil continued to stare hard at the trees. He let out a sharp whistle and all four of his hounds bounded up to him.

"Scent," he said, pointing at the blood. The hounds sniffed obediently. "Find."

But the hounds went up to different trees and sat down at the base.

"Impossible," Arodon whispered.

Thranduil reached the one nearest to him and began to climb.

"Sire! I am not sure that is wise-"

"You are welcome to tell my advisor you did all you could to stop me." Thranduil said. He frowned, stopping midway. Was it his imagination or did the tree move its branch slightly out of his reach?

"Sire, please-"

"Follow me and I will exile you to the ends of Arda."

"I am not entirely sure that is possible, if you forgive me saying so, Sire."

Thranduil gave a low chuckle. The branch beneath his foot shifted, causing him to slip but he managed to hoist himself up a branch and sit on it firmly. He began to search other branches.

"I do not mind your saying so, captain, as long as you remember the circles of propriety, or at least, as much as can be found among the Silvan Elves."

"Exile is a very frightening concept, Sire. It will cow many Silvan Elves, for our homes are what we love most."

Thranduil stilled, gazing down at the streak of blood. He touched it. Wet. Very, very, wet. Suddenly he was not sure if he wanted to look up.

"Arodon, do you remember the phrase 'make no mistake like the King of Greenwood'?"

There was a long pause. It was clear Arodon understood what Thranduil meant.

"Aye, Sire."

"Do you know where the term came from?" Thranduil asked in normal tones. He slowly began his descent.

"I am not really certain, Sire."

"It came from my father's early charge. The signal was not given, but my father charged down upon the enemy. The mistake cost many their lives." Thranduil swallowed when a fresh drop of blood fell on his fingers and flowed over the back of his hand.

"I see."

"The men now use the term as a hidden message that a single action can lead to dire consequences." One of his hounds gave a low growl. "Steady," Thranduil said. He reached the last branch and found the captain and his soldiers ready. Arodon's face was grim but pale as he looked high up in the tree Thranduil was in.

Sudden pain flared behind his eyes. He lost his hold on the branch and dropped on his feet, lessening the damage by rolling back lightly on his heels. His mind defences were clawed down and he heard Galadriel's sharp voice blare in his head.

 _~Things are not what they seem! Thranduil, you must flee!~_

Galadriel's voice was gone as swiftly as it had come. Thranduil looked up.

An elfling hung above them high in the tree. Her eyes were vacant, and blood dripped from its mouth and the deep gash in her chest. Limp arms reached out for them as if seeking warm embrace. But the child did not hang from tree vines, but rather from strange white material that looked stringy and sticky. White foam gathered at the child's mouth and the face was set in a horrified scream.

"We have to move back." Thranduil said.

"Sire? We can cut down the child-"

"This is not about the child and the rest of the captives are likely to be dead. The captives were nothing but bait."

"Bait for what!"

They heard a loud crash of a body hitting branches and the white strings pulled back the child into the semi-gloom high into the branches and out of their view.

 **~S~**

 **Author's Note:**

-I have no excuse for the delay but I do apologize for keeping you people waiting. :)

-Fion is an OC, who trained both Dorian and Legolas.

 **Replies to Anon:**

-Just A Reviewer: I am sorry to keep disappointing you the delays. I am so sorry! Time is not one of my best friends. And other times, I simply forget I have to post a reply. And thank you for your vote of confidence. Your reviews made me very happy lately. :) Well, poor things did go through a lot, didn't they, with Dol Guldur made just within their borders! I'd say they had every right to tear down that fortress when they did.


	6. Chapter 5

Thanks to laceefun, Elleth of Mossflower, Just A Reviewer, feathered moon wings, Raider-K and Smiley (Turkey! :P) for their reviews. You guys have been amazing towards me!

Thanks also to all those favs and follows. You guys give me the push I need! ;)

* * *

 **Chapter 5**

"AMBUSH!"

Arodon's cry cut through the tense air like a sharp knife. Thranduil's fingers found the hilt of his sword and pulled it free before he even registered the motion. The sound of blades leaving their sheaths roared in his ears, combined with the sound of blood thrumming within his body.

Senses pricked and he looked about, searching wildly for any motion, for anything that could have pulled the dead child into the gloom. For a moment he heard nothing.

Then he tilted his head. He could hear faint clicks which he couldn't place. He would refer to it a metallic, pointed object over something wooden, except even that description didn't seem right. He tried to regain his calm breathing. The hounds surrounded him, hackles raised and snarling.

The branches above him broke. Thranduil looked up sharply and something large, black and bulbous crashed through the branches, supported only by a thick white rope.

"Move!" Thranduil barked. Their form broke, and the creature fell right on the ground. The rope broke and met the ground with a dull thump. Thranduil stared at the creature in horror. It covered the entire place where he and his company were standing. It undeniably large, with a body shaped like an oval egg, grown numerous times its size. The shell was sleek, shiny and smooth and covered its whole body. It began to turn and Thranduil's eyes were drawn to its legs. They were numerous, each ending in points that tapped and clicked over the ground. The head finally faced him, and Thranduil found it had numerous eyes at the top, slightly bulging and more oval than circular. They were pure black but they seemed to stare at Thranduil. Its mouth was a single line at the bottom of its head and pincers protruded from it.

The enemy in the south of his forest wasn't the kind Thranduil ever faced before. It was a flesh-eating, venom-spewing spider, the pawn of Shelob herself, who was connected to none other than Ungoliant. These were the stuff made for legends and ballads. They were meant to scare children. But the crippling fear caught Thranduil as soon as he realised what he was facing, and how they were badly unequipped.

The spider faced him fully, the numerous eyes catching his two grey ones and for a moment, Thranduil stared at his own reflection in them, entranced. Then he remembered the danger just as the spider's appendage raised from a corner of his eye. The spell broke. Thranduil leaped to his side but he wasn't quick enough. The limb fell with frightening speed and it tore through his mail and cut his flesh. He cried and stepped back. The pain was hot, licking over his wounded side hungrily and it was sharp. The battle-rage kept the severity of it back. Just as entranced as he was, the company behind him didn't make a move, and the hounds we're dealing with an unfamiliar threat. They didn't know what to do.

"Arodon, fire into the treetops before more of them descend!" Thranduil shouted, voice laced with pain.

"Volley!" At Arodon's shout, the archers drew back their bows and shot high in the darkened netted branches and leaves. They heard shrieks of pain and renewed anger. Something thudded against branches. Thranduil thought for a brief second that they killed one of them. But the body fell through the broken branches and flopped limply on the ground. It was the same child, cocooned in white sticky thread, half-eaten. Bile rose in Thranduil's throat but he forced it down.

The same spider looked at him as if he were next piece of meal. It emitted low various clicks from its mouth. The reek of death and rotting meat wafted from the spider.

The hounds pranced forward. Two of them launched at the spider. Thranduil shouted to stop them but it was in vain. Everything happened in a flash. Thranduil looked on helplessly as one of the spider's numerous appendages shot forward and pierced one of the hounds completely. The spider grabbed a hound by its neck in between its jaws and broke it in an audible snap.

"Lady," Thranduil called the only female from his four hounds. She immediately galloped to him and Thranduil was about to call for the last hound left, but before he could, he already launched himself to the hound. He died as soon as the spider's jaws close on his head. He turned his attention to Lady. "Go home. Now." He pointed north. Sounds of a battle echoed around him.

Lady whined and ran to his horse.

"Lady!" The hound scrambled up his horse, whose eyes were white in terror. She pulled off his saddlebag and rummaged through with her muzzle and came back with something clenched in her jaws. She pressed both hers front paws on his legs and offered it to him. Thranduil pulled it free and without looking, he pushed it in the pouch of his belt.

"Go," Thranduil commanded. His tone was harsh, and Lady's ears lowered. "Go home!"

Lady whimpered but dutifully followed his orders.

"Forgive me," he murmured.

He turned his attention back to the spider, sword in hand. He needed to stay clear of its jaws and limbs. The shining black surface of its body was too hard; the time he needed to summon enough strength in his arm to drive such a force through his sword was not enough. The best decision was to draw him and give the soldiers one less spider to worry about.

"Oh, die, you," Thranduil muttered. He hurtled across the open space, breath catching in his throat when green liquid shot past his head. He never realised that the spiders were capable of throwing venom. He pressed his front against a trunk and took shelter under the tree. It shifted slightly under the fingers of his free hand, the bark creaking ominously. Thranduil peered up in suspicion.

A branch broke off and fell. Thranduil pushed himself forward, stumbling. The branch landed where he was. It was large, nearly the girth of his waist and it would have killed him had it landed right on his hand.

"Traitor," Thranduil hissed at the tree. He gripped his sword tighter but it was useless; how does one fight a being of wood and leaf? The spider turned its head and peered at him with numerous eyes. Thranduil took one step back and opened his mind to the tree.

 _~You will listen to me!~_ Thranduil commanded. He exerted all his power and strength on the creature made of bark, leaves and wood. What he felt from the tree nearly made him dizzy. There was a sickness in it. The tree twisted its trunk angrily and threw one branch over the spider. It did nothing except hamper its pace. Thranduil stooped and picked up a spear of a fallen Elf. He hoisted it above his shoulder and with power building in his arm, he aimed and shot it through the air. His aim was true; the spear pierced it right at the place joining its body with its head. The spider's legs sprawled underneath it and hurtled over the ground, bumping now and then.

Thranduil ducked. He felt the air shifted as it whizzed past him. He turned and looked. The spider's body bumped and rolled over the ground, leaving a disturbed trail of broken roots and flattened moss. It landed not far from him. Thranduil crept closer. He judged it was dead.

"It hurtssssssssss." The voice was low-pitched, hissing and sharp to Thranduil's ears. Thranduil looked up sharply. Dark blood spurted from the spider's body. That was unnatural in itself; the normal smaller spiders don't bleed.

"So..." Thranduil rose. His side was completely soaked with blood now; he needed to retreat and bind his wound before he lost too much blood. "It speaks."

The spider gave more clicks through its mouth and wrung its head side to side. Thranduil frowned. Was it dying?

"Come clossssssser, bright one. Let me tassssste your flesssssh."

"An intriguing offer," Thranduil straightened to his full height and hated the fact that his legs were weak. "But I will have to decline."

"They tasssssted juicy," the spider's body curled within itself. Its voice was more tortured. Thranduil had no doubt that the creature was truly in its death throes. And it seemed painful. Thranduil began to circle it, gingerly keeping away from its legs. "Essssspecially the young ones. You are not young. But I will have my lassssst meal."

The spider's mouth opened wide as Thranduil neared it. He could see all the way to the back of its throat. It would have lunged at him with wide jaws but Thranduil's sword ruined its plans with a single stab deep into the spider's roof of mouth.

"You bit more than you could chew." Thranduil told it. The spider's body grew limp. He pulled the sword free, grunting when he saw his entire sleeve of his sword-arm was soaked in the spider's saliva. He gave a disgusted noise but did nothing for it; he needed to find his company. He heard the sounds of battle not far from him. He caught sight of a horse galloping wildly, before a spider fell on him. The smell of churned soil mixed with blood filled his nose. He coughed. He looked around. Defeat was eminent, if he didn't turn the chances around. Lady's queer behaviour flashed through his mind.

He pulled the tiny tinderbox free from the pouch on his belt. He looked at it and then up at the trees and web. There was no doubt on his mind that both were highly flammable.

"Bless you, Lady," Thranduil murmured. He trained hounds for years and still they always surprised him with their level of intellect. Thranduil smiled grimly.

He needed to climb.

Sheathing his sword, Thranduil began to do just that. His eyes instinctively found places for his hands and feet to hold. He wasn't the best or the fastest climber among his people, or even among his army, but he was swift when he needed to be. He heard the unnaturally high scream of a dying Elf and he gritted his teeth. It was rare for sunlight to penetrate through the dense treetops. But the higher he went, the more he found spider-web. It laced into intricate detail around and across trees. Sunlight would never penetrate such a thick web. He gritted his teeth and grabbed the branch higher than his head.

His hand met flesh.

Thranduil froze. As far as he could tell, it was covered in skin, devoid of blood or wounds. And it was a wrist. He took in a deep breath and shifted his hand until he gripped wood instead. He hauled himself up. A rotting corpse of a young Elleth was spread over the branch, arms and legs dangling on either side of the branch she lay on. She was secured by spider's finely spun white thread. There was a red gaping hole in the middle of her chest, with bone, cartilage and innards decorating the edges. Her jaw gaped, dislocated from its joint. He looked around and found numerous other corpses covering the wide expanse of meshed branches, children and Ellyth alike.

There was nothing else for him to do. He looked down at the body of an Elleth and his heart wrenched. He failed. He failed to protect her. He failed to protect all of them. But he'd be damned if he left the corpses behind to be something's dinner. With newfound purpose, he pushed himself up and grabbed the nearest branch.

He swung his leg over a thick branch and crossed his ankles tightly to secure himself. His hands shook and Thranduil cursed himself. He thought of his father, calmly sitting in front of a chess set beside a starlit-sky peeping through a window. It calmed him instantly and his hands steadied quickly. A red spark shot between his hands.

The branch on which he sat suddenly wrenched to the side. Thranduil's breath hitched in quick terror when he felt nothing but air. But the flint did its work; a spark sprang free and it caught the web. It turned into pure red fire and spread fast in the blink of an eye. Thranduil fell on the ground, the tinderbox leaving his hands. He rolled on the ground twice before he scrambled to get up. Dirt and dried leaves flew about him as he struggled for balance. But the trees' fury forced him on his knees again.

Screams echoed in Thranduil's mind, forcing his defences to burn like the trees in front of him. He gasped when pain echoed through his mind. It was sharp, red-hot and laced with fear. He turned until he was on all fours, his head drooping to the ground.

"Sire!"

Arodon appeared by his side, his forehead scraped red. He gripped his shoulders and bodily pulled him up. "We need to go!" The other Elves were all fleeing in the same direction; south.

"No," he rasped. His throat was dry from the heat. "North. We need to go north."

"There's fire in that direction!"

Thranduil cursed. Arodon supported most of his weight with his arm slung across Arodon's shoulder. They did not get far; they stopped until the fire was out of sight. Thranduil was confident the fire was not going to spread. The spiders were intelligent; they will try to save their homes. The trees shifted around him. Thranduil looked up warily and slowly opened his mind to the trees.

Anger.

It filled his mind, almost turning him insane. His head throbbed hard and Thranduil's knees bent, weakened. He needed to kill. He needed to hurt someone, torture someone. These thoughts weren't his own. It belonged to the trees around him. That, in itself wasn't natural. It also put new fear in Thranduil's heart; he made worse enemies out of the trees. The tinderbox was gone, lost somewhere among churned soil, and charred wooden remains. And the same trick cannot be used twice.

Thranduil closed his eyes and took in deep, calming breaths. The pain, surprise and rage of the trees still seared through his memory. The battle-rage faded with each peaceful breath. Exhaustion came first, turning his limbs lead. Then he slowly reconstructed his defences. He was strong when it came to the defences of his mind. He prides himself on the fact that nothing lesser than Sauron and Galadriel managed to open his mind. But the trees, a large number of them together, ripped it apart as if it were made of gossamer curtain. Either Thranduil wasn't as strong as he thought, or his skills needed improvement.

He slowly became aware of the sharp pain in his side. It was painful enough to fill his senses and make his heavy breathing difficult. Refusing to look down immediately at the damage he suffered, he instead schooled his breath to steady shallow ones.

He looked down, still taking shallow breaths. His long fingers hovered over the wound on his side. The armour was ripped, as if it was made of gossamer cloth rather than mithril hardened steel. It was relatively clean and Elves were immune to basic forms of infection, so there was no need to worry yet. He decided to tend the wound once he reached some form of safety. He passed a furtive glance at the trees. Well, he won't treat it out here. With the portion of his cloak, he pressed it against the wound to quench the bleeding. The cloth immediately darkened in colour from his blood, the blot spreading quickly through the threads. Gritting his teeth, he pressed harder and ignored the pain. He shifted to a position that would likely help him in stopping the flow and to distract himself, he turned his attention to the comrades.

"Tend to yourselves as best as you can." Thranduil ordered. "I am well aware we have no supplies to properly treat our injuries but of the moment it cannot be helped. Rest a while. Then we will move again. It is not safe to remain here."

"We need to treat these wounds properly if we are to stay here for a long time," Arodon interjected.

"The Rangers' havens," Thranduil said. Arodon nodded in understanding. Thranduil's Rangers were well-known to be innovative. They constructed 'haven' which were in truth small, single rooms with a cot, a trunk of clothes, a stash of dried and preserved food, serviceable weaponry and apothecary to treat the injured. "They constructed some, even this far in the south. We will go there."

"Isn't it better to make our way directly for north?" One of the elves objected.

"I doubt the enemy will let us leave so quickly." Thranduil said. "But make for the north we shall. We are not safe here." Silence fell on them.

"This was my fault," Arodon broke the silence. "I should have completed my patrol when I needed to. We would have known of the situation earlier." Thranduil looked at the captain. His breathing was laboured and his temple was scraped red but mercifully it wasn't bleeding. His expression was bitter.

"Blaming yourself will not change our current situation, captain," Thranduil said once Arodon was finished talking. "What is done is done. Mayhap if you found the spiders on your own, your patrol would have died, along with the Ellyth and children. The loss would have been greater." Arodon listened without saying anything and he didn't so much as nod once Thranduil was finished. But the King didn't mind. He knew Arodon listened. Instead, Thranduil assessed their losses in his mind.

More than half of the company Thranduil set out with was obliterated. Their horses were dead, and only one of his hounds managed to escape. No help was to be had and he didn't dare open his mind for a conversation with trees. Worse, the spiders were a new enemy. He had no way of knowing how they behaved, the extent of their intellect, the severity of their venom. He wasn't keen to learn his lessons on them through death.

"Perhaps we should speak to the trees and have them send aid," Arodon suggested.

Thranduil looked up with tightly pressed lips and a taut face. The branches veiled the sky from his face. But he knew it was nightfall, when there was more likelihood of unnamed dark creatures roaming the earth. He could still piece together the numerous vines hanging from the sturdy branches, along with the sticky, stringy white matter the spiders used.

Memory of the tree's branches shying away from his touch flashed across his mind and he clenched his teeth so hard that his jaw ached. The truth was becoming clearer and clearer with each passing moment. It was in the dense air, in the form of brief gestures and actions of the trees. How could Thranduil not see it? He lost territory here in the southern part of his forest.

"No," Thranduil said grimly. "There will be no help from these trees. Mark my words; they are not our friends."

Around him, the trees gave a united ominous rumble as wood creaked and groan when the trunk and branches bent and bowed.

"Then the birds-"

"No birds that are our friends will dare roam amongst these trees." Thranduil said. As if hearing his words, a black-winged raven gave an ear-piercing cry.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

I am sorry for such late updates. You guys have been amazing towards me. I just had a bit of a health issue over the course of few months. Hence the delay in updating longer works. I am feeling a bit better, so I do hope to get back on track. :)

 **Anon:**

Just A Reviewer: Why thank you! I admit I am not the kind to usually leave cliffhangers but oooooh, this one was simply calling for me. I am afraid I am not yet done with everything Thranduil goes through, so let us see!

Emi: You will eventually come here, I suppose. :) So, shush! You don't need to apologise. Everyone gets swarmed with RL, though I was tremendously worried for you. I was relieved to hear from you. Why review my old works? D: I want to hear your thoughts on the new ones! And don't worry about the babbling. I will take your long reviews any day. ;) So how did you find me, if you didn't remember my new name? I am most curious. I seem to recall you remember plotlines more than summaries and titles, so I am impressed you found my stories. And yes, I ended up writing a lot! ;) No, I found coffee isn't much to my taste after all, though I still insist you to try black coffee! As for Tempest, I think you will do fine with the first two instalments. In the third, you might need to know a bit more about Silmarillion to understand some of the chapters. :) And you really need an account so that we could talk more easily. :P Eager to hear from you again!


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